Paint it Green, Blue, Black
by Urchin of the Riding Stars
Summary: Oneshot. Charlotte runs out of pastels upon discovering a dark secret. She decides to paint outside the lines, and the world just might pay the price. Vendetta doesn't mind. Far from it. Mild CharlottexVendetta, RQ for RFFan12.


~*oOo*~

Their home was snug, pretty, and picturesque, built upon a tiny hill that looked very much as if it had come out of a children's coloring book. Cheerful daffodils surrounded the house in an army of yellow, raising their glad faces to the sun that beamed down from above. The grass, which smelled so sweet and hummed with life and good health, was always a pleasant green and nascent butterflies could usually be found fluttering around, alongside busy bees too good-natured to sting you.

Weeds, burrs, and vines of the prickly sort had been meticulously swept away so that no small hands could seek them out. As if the tulip boxes in the windows were not enough, the lawn was also covered with a generous number of bluebells, and the house had been lavished with pastel colored hearts.

The house itself was painted a bright pastel blue, and two obediently bowing trees perched neatly at its sides. There were pretty pink stones leading up to the place, as if it were not a dwelling at all, but a little girl's playhouse. Anyone who passed by the obscenely adorable little home could smell a pie cooling on the windowsill, and the few who came to visit found themselves staring down at a richly embroidered welcome mat that all but begged people to waltz right in.

_That is a good home_, people in Clamberg agreed, high above the hideousness that had turned the once bustling tourist home into a dead town. There were no unexpected eyes glaring at you in gloominess, nothing squelching underneath your feet or things scuttling in darkness. There simply _was_ no darkness to be found, even in the dead of night. If no stars shone overhead, then every window was lit to the nine, as if the house itself were determined to become a living candle.

For whatever reason, fiends didn't often wander over to this friendly haven. Perhaps even they possessed the wish to preserve something almost sickeningly innocent, despite the fact they had no trouble chasing down screaming pedestrians on the ruined Clamberg streets. The few that ventured over were often bewitched by its charm, like Buttons II, a killing Igor ultimately made a playful pet.

Fiends seemed often wary by the place, for whatever reason. Some thought that many of the monsters feared losing themselves among this bright and happy address, which was the antithesis of the world they were brought up in: terrible and terrifying.

Perhaps the very concept of such a good, well-meaning place was so alien to them that it was actually quite frightening. It made a good amount of sense to many of the unfortunate inhabitants of Clamsberg, who often found themselves skirting around the lovely, childish house.

It wasn't just because they anticipated its imminent destruction any day now (although that was definitely a part of it; their tiny tyrant's schemes would succeed sooner or later), but it was so _sincere _and _honest_ in its warmth that it was bewildering. The house was too nice, the inhabitants were much too kind, too alien. Too good to be true.

Maybe some of the townspeople resented it for retaining its blissful ignorance in the middle of hell, maybe some of them like Maggie hated it for being superficial and stupidly stupid in a stupid world.

But the house, regardless of the scant visitors it received, despite the fact that Vendetta often left explosive packages at its doorstop before scuttling away, remained determinedly prim and perfect. Charlotte's grandmother kept the interior spotless and her granddaughter happy, in a kind world where possibilities were only limited by the extent of your imagination. They regularly put on puppet shows, painted pretty pictures, and played lots of games.

Point of the matter: The house was meant to be a paradise. Certainly not the place where you'd expect children to have nightmares.

But no matter how hard Charlotte's grandmother worked, of the animal potholders she crocheted or the secret liquor cabinet she avoided with every fiber of her being, she couldn't prevent it from happening.

Not forever.

~*oOo*~

Her grandmother tucked her in that night with a kiss on the head, as was her custom, before tiptoeing out to scrub the already spotless floors and reorganize the scented candles according to their size and color. Charlotte had snuggled in between her kitten-covered quilts and sighed contentedly.

Here was the end of another wonderful day with Vendetta, who had so given her so many pretty rocks that day for her collection. She couldn't wait for tomorrow, where Vendetta would be waiting with her funny smile and the old jokes: _"I'll annihilate you, you stupid blue girl! Hamster! Strike her down!"_

Such a witty friend. She would have to bring the picture book that Grandma had read to her just minutes ago. Certainly Vendetta would enjoy it. Because Vendetta was like her, and loved everything.

Everything but strawberries. The idea made Charlotte slightly queasy, for whatever reason. She'd closed her eyes, anticipating the many baaing sheep that would greet her in her dreams.

But no amount of sweet stories filled with happy children or dancing clowns could chase away what flashed through Charlotte's eyes that night. The child twitched in her normally sweet and sound bed, and sleepy stillness underneath her bed slowly trickled away to horror.

Laughing, screaming bloody murder.

~*oOo*~

_Mama had tossed the little girl in a closet and told her not to move under any circumstances. Charlotte had been confused, but assumed that it was simply a game. She'd sat on a pile of old coats and waited for her mother to reappear, laughing. Maybe the two of them would surprise Daddy together when he came through the door to hang up his jacket…._

_She'd heard lots of scraping and BANGING sounds, so out of curiosity, she'd opened the door just a crack to discover that both Mommy and Daddy were frantically dragging furniture across the house, barricading the doorways. Someone or something was thudding very loudly at the front door, knocking, knocking furiously. Was this part of the game?_

_In a shower of splinters, someone's boot burst through the door and Mama had screamed. Not giggled, not laughed, not exclaimed, "Oh, Charlotte, I think someone's being a little too silly," screamed. Papa had seized his wife under the arms and dragged her away just as the furniture went flying in all directions. Charlotte had frozen, her mouth dropping as she instinctively staggered back into the closet, watching through the thin crack as a man flanked by several others strolled in._

_"Why hello, Melvin, Angela," he'd said conversationally, as if he were talking about the weather. "I do believe you've exceeded your grace period with my payment."_

_Daddy had thrown himself at the man's boots, and Charlotte would have thought he were playing if he hadn't looked so terrified. _

_"Please! Just give me one more day!" he begged as the man was handing something very long and very sharp-looking, an absolutely evil smile lighting up his face. Papa cried out. "PLEASE! I'll have your money and your interest in two days, just give us some more time, I swear, I have a wife and—"_

_The man clucked chidingly, and stepped forward just as Charlotte's mother started to cry. "I have a wife too, Melvin. A wife who expects me to keep her in jewels, bless her little heart. Though," he added, clicking something on his instrument that made the blades on the end whirl, "I suppose she might have to make do with both of your heads."_

_Charlotte's parents slowly crept into a corner as men advanced on them, their dark eyes hungry, expectant. Mama was shaking as if her bones were set to ice. Papa exclaimed as the ringleader calmly strode towards them both._

_And suddenly, the world before Charlotte's eyes went extraordinarily red before dulling, drifting away._

_~*oOo*~_

_"Let's go home, snookums. Let's go bake cookies."_

_Her hand was in her grandmother's, but she didn't know why. Several men dressed in black were carrying two long, rectangular-shaped boxes, passing the little girl and her guardian by. Charlotte wondered at the sober expressions on their faces, and what they might have in their boxes. Maybe flowers? Costumes? Construction Paper?_

_Losing interest, Charlotte tugged her grandmother's hand. _

_"Where are Mommy and Daddy?" _

_Silence. Charlotte thought that peculiar; her grandmother was normally never struck for an answer. For the briefest of moments, she thought she saw the woman's lip trembling and her eyes start to fill, but before Charlotte could ask what was wrong, the woman simply beamed at her. _

_"Why, they're astronauts now!" she'd exclaimed, pointing at the bright blue sky. Charlotte blinked, startled._

_"Astronauts?" she wavered doubtfully. "You mean in the sky?"_

_"Yes! Of course! They're hiiiigh in the sky, on a space mission, among the stars." The woman turned and Charlotte dutifully followed as they walked away from the place with a great many flowers and statues of angels. Charlotte thought it very nice, though the place did seem remarkably solemn. _

_"When will they be back?"_

_Charlotte's grandmother went on as if she hadn't heard her. _

_"Come on, Charlotte dear, let's get rid of all the nasty things, shall we?"_

_And suddenly Charlotte's grandmother was not Charlotte's grandmother at all, but a terrible, deformed shadow with a hideous row of crooked teeth. This was not some fiend waiting to be turned into a friend, this was a beast holding onto her wrist so tightly Charlotte thought it might break, a creature with eyes that burned like embers, mad and gleeful even as they burned in the darkness. _

_Like HIS eyes had. _

_Charlotte screamed, screamed as her mother did as flowers suddenly turned their happy faces to her and starting laughing, petals falling and blood trickling out, spraying the world and painting it red as the creature started dragging her down through the Earth, which chuckled as well. "Come now, Charlotte, let's play! Let's play, Charlotte dear!"_

_"You have such pretty eyes," said the sky overhead. "May I have them?"_

_Charlotte wrestled away from the touch, but the tree with her favorite swing appeared, its roots ensnaring her and dragging her down like so many skeletal fingers, ignoring her protests and her pleas for mercy:_

**_….AhhahahAhhahahHaha…_**

_So much blood everywhere—Mama had looked at her in the eyes and shook her head furiously even as she bled to death—_

**_….AhhahahAhhahahHaha…_**

_The white-washed wall had been spattered, Papa had so much RED in him, and he was lying facedown in a puddle of it, lying so STILL—_

**_HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!_**

~*oOo*~

"Why so glum, chum?" asked Charlotte's grandmother when Charlotte stared down at her pancakes the next morning, her eyes glassy, hair messy. "Maybe some nice warm maple syrup will cheer you up…"

Charlotte said nothing, though her grandmother lathered the cakes with almost half the syrup bottle, coating it with warm pats of butter and jelly. "Eat up, sweetheart. We need to get you to school soon!"

Charlotte still had nothing to say when they got into the car, drove out of their pine-scented garage and down into town, where the hideous Clamberg awaited them. The child looked out at the cracked, graying cement and idly mused as she watched the horrified grocer flee from the giant red cat, who was licking its jaws hungrily.

She found it sort of refreshing, in a sad sort of way.

Every limb felt as though there had been a colossal weight tied to it, and Charlotte was so tired when they approached the damaged school it was almost unbearable. Still, the idea of dozing off was unthinkable, and so the little blue girl waved her grandmother off out of habit, wondering if the sky had always been that pea soup green or if there had always been _quite_ so many children screaming in fear on the playground.

~*oOo*~

The little girl normally skipped to Vendetta with a grin, but this time she tentatively approached the frowning Bulgarian and her faithful companion at their normal lunch table, clearing her throat to get Vendetta's attention.

"Hi, Vendetta."

"Go away," snapped the girl, turning a page in her Mean Magazine. Grudge huffed warningly, his dark eyes sharp instead of warm and friendly, Vendetta's words unkind instead of welcoming.

Charlotte breathed it in, even as her heart cracked just a little underneath her ribs.

"My parents are dead."

If her world has fallen to pieces, and everything good is now bad (which was good), then that should be exactly the sort of thing Vendetta would relish.

_What she truthfully always HAS relished,_ she has to admit.

Vendetta glanced upward, looking startled but undeniably interested. Charlotte quickly laid more fat to the fire, her voice neither cheery nor monotonous like Maggie's.

"They aren't astronauts at all. They were killed."

Vendetta's intrigued look turned into a terrible smile.

"By who?" she asked, rubbing her hands together with a fiendish glee. "I want to send them flowers."

Cautiously, Charlotte sat down, and calmly started to tell Vendetta everything, noticing how the girl didn't chase her away, actually seemed to be drinking in her words. She spared no gory detail, and before she was halfway through, Vendetta actually turned to Grudge and instructed him to take notes.

~*oOo*~

_Blood on the ceilings. _

_"Here you go, precious. This little fellow's all yours!"_

_Screaming._

_"It takes less muscles to smile than to frown!"_

_"A rainy day? Why, let's turn it into a magical day! Just close your eyes, pudding, and think of all the lovely things rain brings. That'll make you chipper in no time!" _

_The budding desire for revenge, when they trashed her home and destroyed almost everything. She had watched from her closet with wide eyes, waiting, wishing that Mommy had not put away all of the "sharps" out of Charlotte's reach. She wanted…._

_She didn't know what she wanted. Maybe she wanted to feel worse. Or better. _

"Vendetta?" She approached the Bulgarian on the ruined playground.

"What?" barked out the girl, watching as Marvin ran screaming for his life from a colossal octopus later that afternoon. "What is it?"

For a brief moment, Charlotte saw the boy running alongside a playful pet, laughing merrily in a field full of waving daisies. The image flickered and she let it go, watching as it evaporated into reality.

"Do you think what the man did was right? To my parents?"

Vendetta shrugged carelessly, munching on an onion she shined on her front before biting into it.

"It was unbelievably harsh and wicked. So yes! I think so entirely. I hope to one day rule an empire as grand as his!"

"But why?"

"So that I might be evil!"

"But why?"

Vendetta cast her an annoyed glance.

"Ugh! I do not need to explain myself to the likes of you," she snorted, chuckling appreciatively as her fiend seized Marvin by the ankle and flung him into the sky. "Your tiny brain couldn't handle it."

Charlotte said nothing. Then, in a voice quite absent of her usual pep, she simply said, "Try me."

Vendetta cast her a dark look, sighed, and shrugged.

"Because it is fun! The entire world is out there, so full of many things, so meant to be destroyed," she said patiently, taking another bite of her onion. "There are plenty of people who would love to come and crush you, so why not squash them first?"

"But what's wrong with leaving people alone?" she asked, her voice as soft as the wind stirring at the schoolgirls' hair. "Live and let live?"

Vendetta scoffed.

"'Live and let live?' Ha! I almost thought you weren't quite so stupid as I thought you were! Big mistake! Haven't you learned? People almost never do! Look at your parents!" Vendetta exclaimed heartlessly, laughing. "Oh that's right; you CAN'T. They are dead and gone forever! And your stupid grandmother has you singing showtunes in a town where people are waiting for me to destroy you! You are so annoying, most are probably looking forward to your destruction!"

Charlotte's mouth went very dry. "But what about society?"

"What about it?" Vendetta growled. "Society is no good! People _want_ it to fall, fantasize it almost every day! They want the best cars, the most money, the best house, the best things! They want to be great, to have power, but most are too cowardly and too stupid and too weak! I am just smart and great enough that I can actually make my dreams come true!"

Charlotte swayed. The ground seemed to be calling her, tugging her to it. It swayed underneath her feet, trying to upsurp her. Vendetta's pleased grin turned into a troubled scowl.

"Hey, what is the matter with you?" She shook Charlotte and said something, but to Charlotte it was just white noise, static.

_Sunshine, bunnies, stamps, pocketbooks, pencils, doughnuts, birdies, trees I can climb, rainbows, glitter, fuzzy mittens….my friend Vendetta, sweet Vendetta, Grandma—_

_Grandma….Vendetta burning everything, everything, just me and Vendetta…._

"HEY!"

And Charlotte tumbled to the ground with a pained gasp, stars flashing in her eyes before she blacked out.

_~*oOo*~_

_She couldn't say what it was that gravitated her to the unpleasant little girl. Vendetta was evil, but not so as the man who had taken her parents' lives. Yet she caused so much more damage, so much more chaos than the people who had dragged her parents' corpses out the door and strung them up like scarecrows as warnings to all who owed them. It was difficult to explain._

_Vendetta enjoyed watching people suffer. Charlotte enjoyed being near Vendetta, made every excuse to get closer to her, even if Vendetta was only spending time with Charlotte to lure her into some nefarious scheme. _

_Why? Charlotte stirred, her little brow glistening with sweat. _

_She'd painted on her brightest face even when Vendetta was screaming her imminent demise, the greatest of circumstances preventing her from harm._

_Why?_

_If Vendetta really wanted to hurt her, wouldn't she have done so already? _

_And what of her? Why was it so easy to flirt with an irritable bear, to be a fly dancing around a pretty Venus Fly Trap? Did she want to die?_

_No. She didn't think that was the case. Though it might have been once. She wanted to plaster the rotten world over with rainbow stickers, but only after she watched it overrun with pretty, pretty flames._

_It was a sort of game that Charlotte's grandmother had taught her. Anything cruel could be made kind, almost anything dangerous turned into a merry playground for skipping feet. Images of red that had flashed through her eyes when she was still very small were only ever raspberry jam. _

_Knives gleamed and sparkled like stars. The sounds of screams could be turned into applause. Unfriendly eyes belonged to those of shy new friends. Monsters were puppies, kittens, and creatures of the most benign sort. _

_Charlotte liked that sort of world, where only the niceties were granted permission to exist. But even so, she couldn't help but feel a little squeamish at the thought. _

_Vendetta saw everything as it was: filthy, dark, unforgivably and passionately real. There was no closing her eyes in the living nightmare she had made, in her turning people's lives into playthings. She didn't seek out riches, only trophies and monuments to her greatness. Unlike the faceless people who'd laughed so much when Mommy was writhing on the ground and begging for death, she KNEW she was evil and luxuriated in it. _

_It was almost a childlike sense of evil, endearingly so, like a child who has knocked over their blocks while imitating Godzilla. Except Vendetta had the terrifying ability to act out on her wishes, and suddenly her games were not so fun anymore and the adults stopped chuckling. Many of them were lying underneath piles of bricks by now. _

_'Vendetta….' She'd looked that word up once. Blood oath. Against Charlotte, against everything unsightly that was unfortunate or stupid enough to cross her. _

_Was Charlotte trying to fix her, as she tried so hard to fix everything else? She'd tried to turn the desolate town she and her grandmother lived in to a fairyland; even if no one else went along with her act, she could at least pretend the people were waving instead of cowering. _

_Charlotte was good at pretending a lot of things. Like that she didn't, to some degree, notice what Vendetta did, or enjoy it. _

~*oOo*~

"Hamster. Enough. You can take her back to her stupid grandmother's when….oh, wake up already, you stupid little girl."

She'd screamed and cried until her voice went out in the blood. Charlotte's eyes flickered, and she moaned softly, putting a hand to her head. "W-wha…?"

The world shimmered and trembled, and before long, Charlotte's hazy vision made out two frowning figures appearing above her. Grudge hastily whisked the damp cloth on her face and scuttled back, whereas Vendetta stepped closer.

"Believe you me, I wanted to leave you there," she growled as Charlotte slowly sat up, staring at her hands.

"So why didn't you?" Charlotte's voice was quiet. She glanced up just in time to see Vendetta raise an eyebrow.

"D-don't question me! Be silent!" Vendetta spat. Charlotte looked around. Vendetta's room was devoid of color, dark and messy, full of onion sticks and wrinkled magazines. She wondered why the girl hadn't ordered her monsters to tidy it up…maybe the girl simply didn't care what form it took. "I have half a mind to allow my head-chewing fiend to—"

"Vendetta," interrupted Charlotte, ignoring as she always did Grudge's ominous hiss. "What…was it like?"

Vendetta huffed. "What was WHAT like, you stupid nitwit? I brought you here so that you could tell me again how your parents were…dispatched." Her voice was lined with unmistakable relish. "Not that that is quite so evil as me, but….."

"What was it like to take over Clamberg?" asked Charlotte desperately, playing into Vendetta's ego. The girl started, and then smiled, wicked and honest as always.

Charlotte loved that smile.

"Marvelous. I do not think I ever laughed so hard as I did that day. People running around, my fiends breaking everything….breaking people…I was on the ground, laughing. It hurt so much in my side, the laughing."

"What did your parents do?"

Vendetta wrinkled her nose. "They made me feel like I was two inches tall, so I made THEM two inches tall." The Bulgarian clapped a hand over her mouth and let out a horrified gasp. "If you…if you DARE repeat that, I'll—"

"No," said Charlotte gently. "My lips are sealed."

Vendetta did not look placated. "You are not acting quite so hideously stupid as you normally do. But you are still a stupid girl. Why is that?"

"Why am I stupid?"

"Is it because your parents were torn apart?" taunted Vendetta, watching Charlotte's face pale. "In front of their child? Oh, that is a new standard of evil I must try to imitate…"

"Why did you keep your parents alive?"

The question was out before she can help herself, and Vendetta stared at her for a few seconds, aghast. Even Grudge looked rather astonished. But soon enough, rage kindled in her eyes again, and Charlotte's heart sank.

"I think you have overstayed your welcome." She turned to her helper. "Hamster! Take her and throw her far, far—"

"Wait!" exclaimed Charlotte, almost tearfully, falling out of bed to her knees. "I need your help!"

Vendetta scoffed derisively, and shook off the girl by giving her a well-aimed kick in the front, making her double over. "You think I am going to help you get rid of people in Vermont who killed your parents? I admire them! I cannot stand the idea of there being two other idiot yous in this world, **MY** world!"

"No, I want you to help me destroy my grandmother!"

Deathly silence. The pitcher of water Grudge had been holding slipped out of his paws and fell onto the floor. Vendetta was startled out of her shock when cold water started to seep onto her feet. "Hamster!" she scolded fussily before turning back to her long-time hated rival. "What ARE you—"

Charlotte doubled over laughing, the feeling of her giggles bursting around inside of her like so many frothy bubbles, a pleasant pain beginning to burn her ribs.

"No….hurting people is bad. Why, you could get papercuts!" she chimed unhappily as Vendetta and Grudge turned to look at each other. "And that makes friends unhappy….we should give Grandma lots and lots of jam! I'm sure she has some inside of her…lots and lots, considering how many cookies she eats…"

"Why would I help you?" snapped Vendetta, sounding more intrigued than anything else. "You are acting strangely. But it does do my heart good to see you being evil. You'll never be more evil than I am, though," she added warningly, Grudge grunting in affirmation.

Charlotte just smiled, a painfully large, goofy smile. "Evil? Do you want to pretend to be evil pirates, Vendetta? Arrr, let's search for treasure, matey! Or you'll walk the plank!"

"Stop that! I do not want to be a pirate! I do not want to look for treasure! I—"

"But I'm sure there's treasure inside of Grandma," said Charlotte softly, her smile widening to the point where it looked like it might break off her face. "Yummy jam. And jam can be used for lots of fun things. You can eat it….use to stick bunny ears on your head….become a blob monster…paint the walls with it…."

All over, all over, a just reward, painting the world over with it—painfully lovely. Grudge looked seriously unnerved. Charlotte let out another strained laugh. "Sounds nice…"

Vendetta harrumphed and looked away. "Fine. Do that. Get lots of 'jam,'" she said sardonically as Grudge seized Charlotte and carelessly threw her over his shoulder as if she were a sack of potatoes. "Just leave me alone."

"I…wait!" Charlotte cried out as Grudge marched her through the door, down the dark spiral staircase. "WAIT! I want to stay with YOU, Vendetta! PLEASE! I won't ask you to play anymore if you don't want to, I—"

Vendetta slowly descended the stairs as Grudge marched over to the front door, flung it open, and threw Charlotte in. Vendetta slowly emerged from her house, expression impossible to discern as tears started to roll down Charlotte's face. "Stop that! Stop your bawling! That is for the stupid residents of Clamberg to do, not you! STOP CRYING!"

Taken aback, Charlotte stopped whimpering, though the pearls still streamed down her face. "Then just let me be close to you," she begged, voice cracking. Vendetta's hard, mean eyes widened for a split second before narrowing to little slits.

"I am thinking you have lost whatever sanity you have left," she said coolly, beginning to close her door. "Go away. I am thinking that I will have a fiend devour your spleen if you don't go away. Now!"

Charlotte let out a strangled, strange little giggle before staggering up and running to Charlotte's door, hastily sticking her foot out so that Vendetta could not close it. "I can't. I'll do anything for you. If you'll only like me."

"Why don't you walk off a cliff?" she said coyly. Charlotte bit her lip and turned, but Vendetta seized her by the shoulders. "What! When people tell you to off yourself, you are supposed to get angry! Or in your case, make stupid macaroni murals! What is wrong with you?!"

She shook Charlotte so hard the girl's teeth rattled. From a distance, Charlotte listened to someone crying. "Stop it! Stop your hideous wailing!" exclaimed Vendetta. "You are supposed to smile. So smile already! Stop crying!"

A lump grew in Charlotte's throat and blossomed as she looked up at the murky skyline. "I don't think I can."

"You must!" insisted Vendetta. "You must or I will feel like I have won, and I will not win until I destroy you! If I feel like I have eliminated the only thorn in my side, I won't have a reason to get up in the mornings! Now stop bawling or I will get Hamster to smack you! I command it!"

Charlotte wept silently. Vendetta glowered at her a moment before gritting her teeth and burying her face in her hands. "Come here."

"W-what?" Charlotte was positive that she hadn't heard right. Vendetta let out a long suffering sigh.

"Come inside, you stupid girl, before anyone sees and I have to send fiends to pluck their eyes out."

~*oOo*~

Her grandmother was full of warm red paint (Charlotte tried to eat it and it simply didn't have enough sugar), so Vendetta's long-time nemesis hummed merrily to herself as she fingerpainted on a set of newspapers while Charlotte and Grudge looked on from the table. Grudge, who had just finished burying Charlotte's grandmother (how wonderful those mud facials were for your body!) looked sick by the entire thing. Vendetta however, looked torn between amusement and annoyance.

Buttons II dipped his sharp beak into the mixture and another fiend joined in, making a pretty red picture. Vendetta sighed.

"Now listen here," snapped Vendetta, her face unusually rosy. "I don't like you."

Charlotte looked up with starry eyes. "That's alright. I love you, Vendetta."

Vendetta immediately whipped around, blushing heavily. "S-shut up! Shut up before I lock you into a shed with all my many fiends to eat you!" Charlotte shut up. Vendetta went on.

"Because you have heard rather….rather more than you were supposed to, I will not let you leave. I suppose I should just have you fed to a starving horde of my termite fiends."

Charlotte pained her paper heart with blood. Vendetta went on:

"Buuut, seeing as you are my motivation, I guess we will have to work something else out," she said snidely, puffing out her chest with pride. "Maybe I will just have Hamster cut something off so that you will feel inclined not to say anything at all. Like your tongue."

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that, Vendetta," said Charlotte cheerily, but without her normal sugary enthusiasm. "I'll do whatever you tell me to." The words were kind, earnest, honest. Vendetta looked away again, coughing.

"Yes, well…that proves I have won! Ahahahaha! I have beaten Charlotte by forcing her to be my slave for time and eternity! Ahahahahaha!" Charlotte just watched the Bulgarian laugh maniacally, her face full of affection. Vendetta rounded on her and Grudge after her hamster uncertainly began to join in.

"Be quiet, Hamster! I did not tell you you could join in! And what are you looking at, you stupid blue girl? My point is, now that Charlotte has been vanquished, I must find something new to conquer." Vendetta's eyes glowed with unmistakable happiness, and Charlotte smiled.

"Like what?"

"Like the world, you stupid little girl," snapped Vendetta, and Charlotte lit up. "I will bring everyone and everything under my rule with an army. An army of FIENDS!"

Vendetta leapt onto the table and starting laughing again. Charlotte neatly wiped her blood-covered hands and watched. Vendetta's face darkened again, and she turned to look at Charlotte, scrutinizing.

"You must do whatever it is I tell you to."

"Yes Vendetta." Not an ounce of fight.

"If I instruct you to stay in the house, you will do it."

"Yes Vendetta."

Vendetta considered her for a moment. "I suppose…your skills might be useful," she admitted grudgingly as Charlotte washed her hands and went to the oven, pulling on mitts before she drew out a plate of chocolate chip cookies. "You will make my supper every evening, even if Grudge and I are eating out. You will look after the fiends. And you are good…at making a spectacle, of drawing people out." The words are innocent, but ominous. "If I tell you to do so, you will do it. And my fiends will take over from there."

She turned to her hamster, who was staring uncertainly at the entire scene. "Fetch me raisins!" When the creature hesitated, Vendetta banged her fists on the table. "I don't care if I hate them, fetch them anyway!" The mutated pet rushed out the door, and Vendetta watched him go before she spoke again. "And you must always love me." She probably meant to sound proud and uncaring, but Charlotte heard the gruff and curmudgeon voice of a fearful three year old, almost certain of rejection and never once certain of unconditional love. "No matter what I do, what I say or how I act, you must always approve and love me," she demanded, her dark eyes harsh and stormy.

Charlotte thought for a moment. Vendetta meant to bathe the world in destruction, to cause untold suffering and misery. That was alright with her, really. How can the world be made into a nice place if people are constantly making each other miserable and making things over ugly?

The world was a nasty picture, but Vendetta was going to cut the icky components—like strawberries—away. Then, once the picture had been scribbled over, torn to pieces, there could be a sheet of fresh white paper. Infinite possibilities.

Vendetta looked nervous. Charlotte wondered if her parents had lived, would she be interested in helping a maniacal, moody little girl crush the world? A normal world full of normal things, bumping shoulders with disinterested strangers without coloring it a sugary blue or a dull, dark green? A world that was not in chaos, a world that was not full of rainbows and happiness?

How very….boring. And the truth of the matter was, the world WAS corrupt, full of hypocrites who claimed to be good souls, but justified the meaning of their terrible actions to make themselves look better. Vendetta had no such pretense, and that was why she was pure.

Why Charlotte loved her. If this sort of corruption continued, what sort of world would there be when her parents and grandmother returned from their space adventure? Charlotte smiled and kissed Vendetta's hand. "Yes, Vendetta."

"What I am saying here is….Charlotte, with your stupid skills so right, won't you help me with my slaying tonight?"

Already Charlotte can see it: Vendetta mercilessly bossing her around, scaring people for the thrill of it, boarding up stores and eliminating the press, having enormous monsters eat tanks and rockets while people fled for their lives, too frightened of beasts patrolling the streets to bother hurting each other, united by their hatred and fear of Vendetta. Anyone who crossed the ruler would wind up being devoured alive or tortured to death in some sort of grim chamber overhead Charlotte's kitchen, where she would be dutifully baking cookies and fixing Vendetta's supper.

Waiting for the guest to hand over some nice raspberry jam. They WOULD do that sort of thing, wouldn't they?

She squeezes Vendetta's hand.

"I would love to, friend."


End file.
